


What She Stole

by Periwinkle39



Series: After [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24247936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle39/pseuds/Periwinkle39
Summary: Amid the action in the finale, Sansa goes to see Jon where he is being kept before he is sent back to the Wall.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: After [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549423
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	What She Stole

**Author's Note:**

> Another canon-ish drabble in my After series. More bad haiku.
> 
> I always felt very strongly that the goodbye scene we get for the Starks is not the only time Sansa sees Jon when she returns to King's Landing after its been burned, so here ya go.

_What she stole from him,_   
_His heart, that matters much more._   
_A theft that restored._   
  


Water and bread were brought in a couple of times a day, so he had stopped reacting to the sound of the door opening and the steps that followed. Then it was her voice, which was in and out of his thoughts so often that he paid it no mind, assuming that his mind was all it was. It wasn’t until her touch, practically burning him through that ragged tunic he wore, that he realized she really was there, Sansa, looking fierce and beautiful like she always did. 

The words tumbled out of his mouth like a gush he’d been holding back for years. “What are you doing here? Are you all right? Where are Bran and Arya? Did Tyrion force you to come? What has he done?”

Her hand had shifted from his shoulder to his chest as he stood, and it was her other hand on his cheek that finally quieted him. 

“I’m here for you. I’m all right. The Northern Forces are camped outside the city. Bran and Arya are in the keep—what’s left of it. Tyrion didn’t force me to come. I forced _him_. I won’t have you sent off looking like a petty criminal.”

“Not when I’ve committed the grandest crime of them all: treason.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. You didn’t.” Seeing that he was about to open his mouth, she added, “And don’t contradict me on that point. I’m right and you know I won’t be convinced otherwise.”

He tilted his head slightly, leaning his cheek into her hand. He noticed, too, that on a chair behind her was a clean set of clothes, boots, a cloak. “Are those clothes?”

“I brought them for you,” she said, stepping away to pick them up. “Sewed them on the way here, black only by wretched coincidence. I thought it would suit you. I have something else too.”

She pointed to the door, next to which his sword was perched, pommel up. He walked over to pick it up, having not laid eyes on it since he’d been thrown in this dungeon. Longclaw was shining and clean. On the pommel, the image of Ghost looked back at him. Hi shoulders drooped.

“Perhaps, I shouldn’t keep the direwolf,” he said quietly, not daring to look back at her as he said it.

“If you change it, I’ll use the sword to smite you myself.”

Jon thought he might cry, both for how ready she was to defend him and for her manner with him—familiar and argumentative as always but laced with love.

“How did you get it? I never thought I’d see it again.”

“It was stolen from you. I stole it back.”

“How?”

“It matters only that it’s yours again. They are done taking things from us.”

Then, she left him to change and prepare himself for the trip North. It would be to the Wall, not Winterfell, but still away from this hell, closer to home, closer to her.

_Meaningless titles_   
_Are lost like the fool she was._   
_He is her true knight._


End file.
